An Unexpected Project
by Chereche
Summary: A short, companion fic to Chapter 6 of "Finding Courage". Kurt surprises his favourite teacher with a secret project.


"Got a minute, Mr. Kentwood?" Kurt asked, poking his head around the man's open classroom door.

Blaine was in the dining hall waiting for him, but Kurt wanted to do this, preferably privately before he lost his nerve.

"Sure thing Kurt," the man responded, from the white board he was erasing. "You have a question about today's assignment?"

"Not really," Kurt said, walking to his desk. He reached into his open bag, and pulled out a binder. "It's about an old assignment really. It's just...taken me a while."

"What?" the man said curiously, coming over to him.

Kurt flushed, embarrassed, as he reached out to hand him the binder. He looked down, not able to watch him and speak. "Last month you gave us an assignment with three essays, remember? We had to do two of them. Well, I went ahead and did the third, but it took me a while because..."

"You hand wrote it," the man said, awe and a next emotion in his voice.

Kurt looked up then. His teacher was, almost reverently, turning the pages in the binder, all eight of them, taking in his writing more than anything else.

"I-I did," Kurt said, his voice dropping slightly. "I told you I spent a good time this summer working on it, right? I-I wanted to show you what I managed to accomplished. It took me a while. I still can only do a few lines neatly at a time, but, I just..."

"I'm very proud of you, Kurt," he gently interrupted, when it became evident that Kurt could not finish his words. The middle-aged man reached over and gently clasped Kurt's shoulder. "I am so proud," he re-iterated, "more so that you chose to give your first written assignment to me."

Kurt chuckled. "Well, you're my favourite teacher here."

"As I should be," the man quipped, closing the binder with one hand. "I'll read this over carefully for you."

"Thanks a lot sir. Well...I won't take up any more of your time. Have a good lunch sir!"

Brian looked on as the boy scurried out of the room, undoubtedly out of whatever amount of courage it took for him to come into here in the first place. He probably had gone to take comfort from Mr. Anderson, he thought with a soft smile, moving around the table to his chair, dropping down into it with a sigh. He opened the binder again, this time paying more detail to it, smiling at the mostly even handwriting. It occasionally grew sloppy, a sign of Kurt's hand growing fatigued, but it did not detract from the overall effort.

"That boy," he sighed, his voice filled with pride as he finally closed it. Kurt had certainly come such a long way since last December when he had first spoken to him when the staff was still considering admitting him into the school.

Brian reached into his desk and pulled out a framed photograph, resting it on the table beside his binder. He smiled fondly as he took in the boy in the picture. He bore a startling resemblance to him, something his wife still grumbled about at times. His smile though was all hers, something he never understood how she could not see. He stroked the photograph lovingly, pausing for a moment to tap at the wheel-chair the teenager was in. A stupid prank gone wrong, he thought neutrally, the anger and pain he had felt long gone. It had taken one foolish decision; one disguised skate board, and Dylan landing in the wrong position. All those little factors had combined to leave his son in a wheel chair for nine months.

Brian dug around in the drawer again, pulling out a second, considerably more recent photo, smiling as he took in his family - his beautiful wife Kathy, their twelve year old twins Micah and Leah. And, of course Dylan, who was standing between them with a huge grin on his face. He was dressed in his cap and gown, elegant wooden cane in one hand, and his degree in the other. Brian looked at it for a moment longer before returning the pictures to his place before securing Kurt's binder in his carry-home bag.

Kurt's circumstances were different from Dylan's, but Brian hoped, as he had from the day he had first spoken to the boy, that he could have his own happy ending, much in the same way his son had had his.


End file.
